


Glazed Over

by usabuns



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Baggage, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk Being A Good Friend, Klance (implied/mentioned), M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining Lance (Voltron), Romantic Frustration, Stress Eating, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usabuns/pseuds/usabuns
Summary: And it's no surprise when he finds his best friend standing on the porch as soon as he creaks the door open. "You have keys, Lance," he mutters in between more drowsy yawns."Forgot them at home. Sorry." Lance is smug as he lets himself in.Also known as: Lance has certainfeelingsthat he wants to get off his chest, and Hunk really didn't even need that bribe to let Lance confide in him.





	Glazed Over

**Author's Note:**

> this is an excerpt from a chapter of a fic i was going to write, but ultimately scrapped. it's super old but i really just wanted to get it out of my drafts at this point, and because season 3 is tomorrow it seemed like a good time to do just that.

There were often days in the summer where the late hours of dusk blended into early dawn, and Hunk usually found himself hunched over his workspace and sitting upon a swivel chair, designing new tech or editing blueprints from the night before; on those types of days, he'd get two hours of sleep at best. 

It was when the shades of ebony in the sky turned to lovely hues of marigold that he was awoken by a sharp knocking on the door. After an all-nighter, the last thing Hunk wanted was a rude awakening such as this. The person on the other side would really have it in for them this morning; on days like this, calling Hunk 'grumpy' was an understatement. 

The sound of his groans are muted by yet another loud knock, and then a few aggressive doorbell rings at random intervals. It's then that he realizes it's not going to stop anytime soon, so Hunk, still clutching the warmth of his pillow, tosses the blanket he'd been under to the floor and stands up from the sofa. He stretches his back out and grumbles, then calls out a gruff "I'm coming, I'm coming...!" 

He runs his fingers through his bangs — shaggy as they are in the morning — and a yawn escapes betwixt the small frown that makes his lips curl downwards. His footfall stops at the door where whoever's outside continues knocking, albeit more softly. Hunk sighs, loudly, and the noise halts; he takes a moment to rub his eyes free of sleep before carefully unlocking the deadbolts. 

And it's no surprise when he finds his best friend standing on the porch as soon as he creaks the door open. "You have keys, Lance," he mutters in between more drowsy yawns. Lance's outfit consists of golden aviators, a navy blue sleeveless shirt, Nike sweatbands around each wrist, black athletic shorts, and tan flipflops slipped over white knee-socks. In all honesty, he looks fresh and awake, and Hunk can't help but feel just a little jealous.  

"Forgot them at home. Sorry." Lance is smug as he lets himself in. There's a plastic bag hanging off one of his arms, and whatever's inside smells really, really good, but Hunk's honestly too exhausted to question it right now. "I would've woken you up anyways, even if I did have them." He says it matter-of-factly with a lazy shrug, but Hunk just collapses into the couch where he'd been sleeping only minutes earlier without an immediate response. 

"For once, you're right," Hunk finally says, tiredly, into the armrest. "But couldn't you have at least waited until, like, ten, to come over? I haven't even had breakfast yet..." 

"Sounds like a 'you' problem," Lance retorts, even though he knows it's a bit too early to be making such snarky comments. He flops onto the loveseat and crosses his legs atop the coffee table, all the while shifting his bag between hands. "I actually thought your mom would answer or something—" 

"—Out for the next couple weeks," Hunk interrupts, and Lance raises a brow. "Mom and Dad have been planning a trip back home since the beginning of the school year. They left yesterday." 

"Without you?" 

Hunk narrows his eyebrows, because it isn't like Lance to forget something this significant. "I told them I wanted to stay here. I brought it up a few days ago at work, remember?" 

"Must've slipped my mind." Lance scrunches up his face and looks to the ceiling. His eyes watch the spinning of the fan intently. "I guess I can appreciate the peace and quiet, though." 

Hunks turns his body and rises to a sitting position. There's playful accusation in his tone, "Yeah, well, I was appreciating it until _you_ barged in." He points a finger sharply at Lance, smirking. 

"Hey, let's not go insulting the bearer of gifts!" For emphasis, he jabs out his arm and dangles the bag in front of Hunk, as if in offering. A sly grin materializes upon his lips. "I stopped by the café on the way here. You're welcome." And Lance gives Hunk an affectionate wink, making Hunk roll his eyes in exasperation. With one swift movement, Hunk snatches the bag from Lance's grip and sends him a somewhat skeptical look. But Lance looks so sure of himself that Hunk can't help but chuckle a little.  

His hands rip the plastic handles, which had been knotted together at the top, and reveal that inside lies a medium-sized, white box. The scent from earlier became much more potent as Hunk lifted the paper flaps gently. Hunk licks his lips, his eyes locked onto whatever's inside. "Wow. Really? You're the biggest butt-kisser I know..." The contents of Lance's box are a baker's dozen of varying kinds of donuts stacked on top of each other, the different frostings clashing and creating new colors. "But I'll admit that you're a _good_ butt-kisser. So, what do you want from me this time?" 

Lance shifts awkwardly. "Firstly, thanks for the compliment. I try to be the best suck-up I can be." He puts a hand to his heart, nodding, and bows graciously. "But frankly, Hunk, I'm offended that you'd think so low of me!" Lance then clutches his chest in mock hurt, grimacing. "For you to think that I'd only do nice things for you when I want something? Unbelievable! Disgusting! A stain on my family name! I'm not a butt-kisser _all_ the time!" Lance, arms crossed, stops his rant when he realizes that Hunk's already munching away on one of the triple chocolate donuts. "Hunk!" 

"Hmm? Oh, come on, Lance. I've known you for...how long?" 

"Honestly, I lost count a long time ago. Maybe...fourteen years? Give or take a few." 

"Right. Well, the only times you bring me food are when your mom sends over leftovers or when you need something. And your mom didn't make these, Lance, so spill it. What's up?" 

"Look, I..." The mood in the atmosphere suddenly goes sour; Lance's face falls and his fingers fold together in his lap, Hunk furrows his brows in confusion and anxiety, the whirring of the ceiling fan drones on in the background... There's a troubled expression on Lance's face. "I just need someone to talk to about something." 

It's silent for a few moments; Hunk even stops chewing so as to truly show how much the magnitude of his friend's words affected him. "...I would've listened to you without the donut bribe, Lance." 

"Dammit, I know! You're a saint, Hunk, a real godsend, but I'm a major stress eater, okay! So pass one over, will ya?" This is, admittedly, the first time Hunk's seen someone chomp on a donut so aggressively. Now he's talking while eating, "And I... ugh! It's that bastard Keith! He's the one giving me so many problems, damn him! His stupid mullet, his pretty eyes... Fuck, I'm just so in love with that asshole!" Before he knows it, he's grabbing his third donut and stuffing it into his mouth as Hunk nods his head in sympathy. 

"Oh yeah, believe me, I've noticed. That's all that's been bothering you?" 

"What do you _mean_ you already know?" Lance goes to swipe another donut, but Hunk pulls the box out of reach and takes a pink-frosted one for good measure. Lance frowns and slumps forward, resting his chin against the palms of his hands. "Ah, shit, was it really that obvious?" 

Hunk takes a bite of his donut, a satisfied expression on his features. "Yes, dude. Even Pidge picked up on it." A spark of realization hits him and Hunk snaps his fingers, "In fact, now that I think about it, you were ogling Keith when I told you my parents were leaving, weren't you?" 

A blush spreads to his cheeks, and Lance scowls, shaking his head in defeat. " _Fóllame_... I hate him. I hate Keith so goddamn much—" 

"—What's so bad about it, though? I mean, like, isn't love a good thing? Doesn't it make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?" Hunk offers an incredulous, insistent look, and Lance mulls over his words. Finally Lance sighs, deeply, and falls back into the plush of the loveseat. 

Lance's voice drops a whole three octaves in the span of four seconds. "Y-Yeah, I guess it does... Man, this really sucks." But Hunk laughs, stands up, takes a seat next to Lance, and pulls him into a big hug. The latter groans, smiles, and hugs him right back. "It sucks, but I've never felt more...alive?" He purses his lips, as if unsure about his word choice.  

Hunk pats him on the back a couple times for reassurance, then pushes away from the embrace. A serious expression comes to rest on his face as he places both of his hands upon Lance's shoulders. "I've only got one piece of advice for you, Lance," he starts, and he takes the final bite out of the last donut before continuing, "and that is to act on your emotions, not repress them; otherwise, you'll end up regretting it forever." 

"Duly noted," Lance replies, conviction clear in his voice — even if he's still not 100% sure he's actually going to go through with revealing his feelings to Keith. "But, uh, we'll figure it out another day. I need some time to...sort things out?" 

Again, Hunk nods in understanding, and this time puts his hands up defensively. "Yeah, alright. I get it." The seriousness pulling his mouth into a line dissipates and instead shifts to a light-hearted smile. "But...I'm kind of surprised you didn't buy us coffee. Not to mention disappointed. It would've gone great with those donuts." There's almost a sort of longing or wistfulness in his voice when he says it.  

"I didn't bring enough money, alright? The donuts were a lot more expensive than I remembered! Don't you have coffee here, anyways?" Lance jerks his head toward the kitchen's general direction and Hunk follows his gaze. 

There's a second or two of consideration. "Hmm... Probably do, actually. I'll go make some if you want. God knows I need it." Hunk's already getting up and lumbering to the coffee machine before he even finishes his offer. 

"You're a life-saver, Hunk."

**Author's Note:**

> i take spanish in school but they dont teach you swears so i used google translate (sue me) and it's probably wrong but:  
>  _fóllame = fuck me_
> 
> anyway, you can give me prompts or talk to me on these websites:  
> 
>
>> ♡[tumblr](http://usabuns.tumblr.com)  
> ♡[twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/usabuns)


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